


I don't know what I'm supposed to do

by FeralCreed



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: (Mordecai plans to sacrifice himself attacking Hyperion), (it doesn't happen though), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Fake Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, first chapter is angst with a happy ending, second chapter is PURE FLUFF, that one where mordecai thinks brick was killed by hyperion and doesn't do well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24766969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeralCreed/pseuds/FeralCreed
Summary: HYPERION KILLS VAULT HUNTER, the headline screamed. Underneath it, a smaller headline added, ATTEMPTED PRISON BREAK RESULTS IN EXECUTION.There was a picture of Brick underneath that.The ECHO's screen cracked into a dozen pieces as it hit the floor. Mordecai stared blankly at the wall across from him. Brick. They murdered Brick. They – they just – and Mordecai – he hadn't been there.
Relationships: Brick/Mordecai (Borderlands), Mordecai & Roland
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, after months of not being able to write, I somehow suddenly banged this out in about four hours or so. Huh. Turns out that falling headlong into a new ship and reading about half their tag will give you ideas. And listening to "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron. No beta, so if you see mistakes, kindly let me know.
> 
> Edit 7/6/2020 - caught a few grammatical mistakes, no changes to the story.
> 
> Editing the note to say that there's now a Morbrick server on Discord! Click [here](https://discord.gg/5EkUzXvnFy) to join (and right-click and copy the link to invite your friends). See you soon!

Mordecai, for once in his life, desperately wanted to say he was sorry. It didn't matter that he wouldn't be any good at apologies. Or so he assumed, because he was never any good at anything like that – just at killing and breaking and pushing people away. Somehow that hadn't always happened with him and Brick. Somehow they'd managed to work it out more often than not. Brick, it seemed, had been immune to the maelstrom of disaster that always formed around Mordecai and hurt everyone in his vicinity.

Until he wasn't. Until Mordecai was too slow to save him, his scope swinging around just in time to see Brick's body dragged into a dropship by Hyperion soldiers.

He couldn't actually remember what happened after that, too blind with panic to put together the actions, but people told stories. So did things. The shattered glass of his scope lenses complained that he'd thrown his rifle aside with no regard for where it landed. The tear in his shirt explained how Roland had grabbed anything he could reach to stop Mordecai from running right onto the ship. The bandage across Roland's nose flaunted how Mordecai had gotten in a lucky hit and broken it among all his desperate thrashing. He'd seen it all. Many times over. But somehow none of it ever really made sense to him, like he was looking at it underwater.

Or after seven bottles of booze. The ride back to Sanctuary had been silent apart from the rumble and whine of the runner's engine. For a wild second, he'd entertained the thought of jumping out of the back of the moving vehicle and just running. Running to some dark hole of a bar and letting himself eventually get killed by some bandit only brave enough to pick a fight with a Vault Hunter when that Vault Hunter was a washed up has-been who couldn't see straight.

Then Roland had leaned over and put a hand on his knee. Said something about how he was sorry – the wind whipping around them stole most of his voice and Mordecai had never been any good at reading lips. But the pity in Roland's eyes was enough to take away the impulsive thoughts and just leave him empty. He hadn't looked back at his friend when they'd gotten to Sanctuary, just hopped off the back of the runner and gone straight to Moxxi's.

“Well, hey there, sugar,” she crooned when she saw him. “You look like-”

“Don't,” he cut her off harshly. “Not one word. Just give me a bottle of the strongest shit you have.”

She hesitated, a moment of uncertainty showing as her gaze flicked behind him. Looking for Brick, no doubt. The two of them had been inseparable for a year now. Mordecai had fallen into it for a lark. He'd thought Brick would be a good lay and they'd both move on. But then somehow feelings had gotten into the situation and they'd kept moving back towards each other. Like there was some kind of gravity between them, like Brick was a planet and Mordecai was his moon, two things so often seen together that half of Sanctuary just viewed them as one.

And what the fuck was a moon supposed to do without a planet?

He hadn't been able to go back to the place he'd shared with Brick. Signs of his lover would be everywhere, from the half-empty cup of water in the living room to clothes dropped messily in the corner of their bedroom. The end of that thought had spawned the unpleasant idea that people might expect him to _get over_ Brick, to take another lover some months or years down the road, and that had ultimately been what drove him to drink.

So the answer, at least that night, was to get drunk out of his mind and pass out on the floor of one of Sanctuary's few empty apartments. It didn't make the next morning any easier, but it wasn't like anyone would be surprised that he immediately climbed back into a bottle without Brick there. Mordecai had always struggled to make good decisions. And while alcoholism no doubt caused him plenty of problems, it had also numbed his ability to care about those problems, so he'd considered it a win. He'd tried getting sober once or twice in the past, but he just couldn't do it. Not until Brick had been there, a man strong enough to stop Mordecai from destroying himself and strong enough to forgive the harsh words Mordecai attacked him with during the long, hard detox.

The last seven or eight months had made him forget how much he hated throwing up. But it wasn't like he had anywhere to be today or anyone who was expecting him. Roland and the other Crimson Raiders were probably... aw hell, he didn't know what they were up to. Didn't care, either. Nobody ever came back from Hyperion prisons, and a Vault Hunter was a hell of a prize. They were going to make an example of Brick. Kill him on live television to make a point and flaunt their power. Just the thought made him sick all over again.

Roland finally showed up after what Mordecai was pretty sure was the better part of a week. He had that _I'm not surprised, just disappointed_ look that Mordecai had so often seen on, well, just about everyone, really. He stepped over the dozens of bottles strewn around the room and took a tentative seat on the edge of the couch. Mordecai couldn't blame him for being cautious. The place he'd commandeered was an utter mess, full of bottles and the occasional takeout box that always ended up mostly going to Bloodwing.

“We have a plan,” Roland said finally. “About Brick.”

Mordecai made a soft disgusted noise under his breath as he paced towards the window. Of course Roland had a plan. He was a military guy, through and through. Probably had backup plans for his backup plans' backup plans. Was that too many uses of the phrase 'backup plans' in one thought? Maybe, but he was drunk and grieving, he could butcher the English language as much as he wanted. It wasn't like it made sense in the first place anyway.

It didn't seem like Roland had expected that kind of response, but he continued to explain, pausing only to raise an eyebrow when Mordecai picked up a half-empty bottle to finish it without breaking stride. The plan he'd come up with wasn't half bad, except for one thing. He and the other Raiders would never get close to Brick. Hyperion would gun them down long before they got close. Nobody even knew where he was being held, Roland had just said so himself. The only thing they knew was that Brick would be executed, probably sooner rather than later, and that it would be a show.

“You done?” Mordecai cut him off, not caring that Roland had been in the middle of a sentence and clearly not done. “'Cause I got about...” He paused, squinting at the bottles clustered on every available surface, before giving up. “I got a fuckton of booze I need to finish and I ain't got any idea how long I have.”

Had he been slightly less drunk, the icy silence from Roland probably would have scared him, but as it was, Mordecai just gestured vaguely towards the door. Maybe Roland would take a hint and leave. Probably not, though. Nothing ever went the way he wanted. Hell, they wouldn't even be having this conversation if the universe had been just a little bit kinder. It was close to the beginning of Pandora's night cycle. He and Brick would probably be talking about dinner right about now and inevitably getting distracted by something that would lead to them making out, Brick's massive hands unbelievably gentle on Mordecai's thin frame, Mordecai's lips ghosting across every scar on Brick's face, their bodies sharing the same breath-

“You think Brick would want this?” Roland asked instead of leaving.

The question ripped Mordecai out of his thoughts, leaving a gaping hole in his chest at the mention of Brick's name. For a moment he seriously considered shooting Roland where he sat. How _dare_ he try to use Brick as some kind of bargaining chip, something to instill guilt and push him towards accepting Roland's plan? He stood there frozen, his knuckles white around a bottle, and eventually spoke in a low, pained voice.

“I think Brick woulda wanted to get another dog and open a wildlife sanctuary on a planet that wasn't trying to kill him every day. I think he woulda wanted to adopt a couple kids and teach 'em about animals. I think he woulda wanted to learn how to garden. I think he woulda wanted to grow old with me. 'Cause that's what he always talked about, what we planned, for if we were left alive after this damn war. But he ain't gonna get that now, is he, Roland? Hyperion's gonna murder him.”

“And you're gonna sit back and watch?” There was a harsh note in Roland's voice that hadn't been there before, like he might actually believe that Mordecai was just going to shrug and let it happen, and the sniper barked out a mirthless laugh.

“Hell naw. I'm gonna wait until they announce when they're gonna do it, and I'm gonna find out where. And I'm gonna kill as many of those Hyperion bastards as I can on my way in, but they're gonna take me alive, because executing two Vault Hunters is gonna be great for their little showtime. I'm gonna tell Brick I love him and then I'm gonna die with him. Just like we both knew would happen someday, because guys like us don't get happily ever after. So get the fuck out, Roland, and let me drink in peace. No use doing anything else. We both know we can't save him.”

Roland's expression was one of shock and horror – he probably hadn't come here expecting Mordecai to have thought out how he was essentially going to commit suicide – but Mordecai couldn't find it in him to talk any more. He just gestured towards the door again and this time Roland left. Good. Mordecai collapsed on the couch, not exactly sure how he'd managed to stay standing the entire time. He was tired, bone tired, in body and soul. He'd been a fool to tie himself so completely to Brick that he couldn't live without the man, but there was no undoing it now. He'd just have to face the consequences.

He growled when he realized the bottle in his hand was empty and tossed it across the room. It bounced off of one of the other empty bottles already piled high in the cardboard box he'd been aiming for and shattered on the floor. Damn it. He should probably try to pick it up, but he'd just cut his hands to pieces. And he didn't want the pity that would undoubtedly come his way if he needed help getting fixed up. Hah. Like all of Sanctuary wasn't already pitying him.

Or maybe not. He hadn't left this apartment since he'd first claimed it. He spared a brief moment to wonder if anyone had cleared out his and Brick's things from their old place, but decided it didn't matter. The only thing he wanted to settle before he died was Bloodwing. The raptor would follow him into hell without hesitation but Mordecai would never forgive himself if he got his best friend killed. Maybe he could lure him into the apartment with food and shut the window behind him. Yeah, that could work. He could leave a note for Roland asking him to let Bloodwing out after... Well.

With that detail straightened out, Mordecai idly entertained the idea of getting up for another bottle before deciding it wasn't worth the effort. He was feeling tired for the first time in a while and he might as well get some sleep. Not because he should, but because it would be a few hours he wouldn't have to spend alone with his thoughts. Right now, that was the most he could ask for. He'd manage three or four hours before nightmares about Brick woke him up, drink until the screams didn't echo through his head any more, pass out from the booze in his system, and repeat the cycle until he finally heard news about Brick's execution. What else was he supposed to do?

But of course things never went the way they were supposed to.

Nearly two weeks later, Mordecai woke with a headache and a lot of anger. He had no idea why his ECHO was making that awful noise, but he was gonna break it with the first heavy object he could find. Or maybe just toss it out the window and let it be someone else's problem. He opened his eyes and hissed in pain as rays of light shone directly into his face, turning away and rubbing his eyes until the spots went away and he could see. Where was his damn ECHO?

He tripped on one of the many bottles on the floor and swore as he caught himself on the back of the couch. Why had he left such a damn mess everywhere? He had one of the worst headaches he could remember – not that he could think much with the awful pounding in his head – and he just wanted to stop that racket from the ECHO and drink enough to feel better before he went back to bed. Or, well, back to sleeping on the couch. Sleeping in a bed always resulted in him reaching across the sheets for Brick, causing a fresh pang of grief when he was inevitably met with nothing.

Finally he found the damn noisebox, squinting angrily at its screen as he turned it around, trying to remember where the mute button was. He'd never heard this sound, anyway. What the hell was it? Once he finally got the damn thing to shut up, Mordecai tilted the ECHO towards his face, trying to read the headline of the news pop-up. Something big must've happened if Hyperion had a story they wanted broadcast to every ECHO on Pandora.

HYPERION KILLS VAULT HUNTER, the headline screamed. Underneath it, a smaller headline added, ATTEMPTED PRISON BREAK RESULTS IN EXECUTION.

There was a picture of Brick underneath that.

The ECHO's screen cracked into a dozen pieces as it hit the floor. Mordecai stared blankly at the wall across from him. Brick. They murdered Brick. They – they just – and Mordecai – he hadn't been there. Plans to die with the man he loved aside, Brick didn't deserve to die alone. He hadn't deserved to get captured in the first place, because Mordecai knew good and well that Hyperion would have tortured him for information. Had it at least been quick? Would the article say?

He glanced down and felt a twinge of panic at the ECHO's dark screen. Shit. Had he broken it? He was pretty sure he'd dropped it before without any damage, but of course this would be the time it was different. He fell to his knees, hands hovering hesitantly over the device for a moment before he picked it up and frantically pushed the 'on' button a dozen times. Nothing. _Shit._ The need to know what had happened overwhelmed him and he stumbled to his feet, overturning the bottle-laden coffee table when he leaned on it too much, but not pausing to take in the damage as he ran toward the door.

He yanked it open, turned left, and slammed straight into someone. The collision was enough to knock the breath from Mordecai and he staggered back against the wall for a second. Who the hell had he just run into? This building was more or less abandoned, there was no reason for – Roland. The hallway was dimly lit, with half the lights broken, but there was no mistaking his friend's face.

“Tell me it's not true.” It wasn't what he'd intended to say, and Mordecai hated the way his voice cracked, the way he sounded like he was begging, but there was no taking it back now. “Even if it is, tell me it's not. Please.”

Roland hesitated, then his shoulders slumped. “I'm sorry, Mordecai. I know that you wanted to... I'm sorry.”

“No. No, no, no, he's not, he can't be.” Mordecai backed away when Roland tried to reach out to touch him. Brick, dead? It should be impossible, but Hyperion's never lied before, and they would never let him escape prison alive. And Roland, for all their disagreements, would never lie to him about this. Mordecai realized he was crying as he took another step back. Roland hovered in the doorway, clearly uncomfortable with the situation yet unwilling to leave Mordecai alone. It was probably a smart idea.

Rage flooded through him and Mordecai turned and grabbed the first bottle he saw, flinging it against the wall. It smashed, the whiskey inside dripping down the wall to puddle on the floor as he whirled to pick up the next thing that came to hand. He screamed wordlessly at the shatter of glass and kicked over the small table that was holding at least a dozen more bottles. They broke around his feet, shards of glass falling off his boots as he crossed the room in a few long strides. He was going to break every last thing in this apartment and then he might just burn down all of Sanctuary too, because why the fuck not?

He was panting and exhausted by the time the place was destroyed. His face was damp and his throat was raw, and he knew he must have been making a hell of a racket screaming out his anger and grief, but there weren't many people close enough to hear it. Besides, they all knew what Brick was to him. None of them could be surprised at the strength of his reaction. Or that he took it out on everything around him. At his core, Mordecai had always been destructive and cruel. And that was never been more apparent than when he lost the man that was his world.

Was. They all knew what Brick _was_ to him.

Everything he felt left him in a rush. He was empty, and alone, and there was nothing to keep him from falling to his hands and knees and choking for air that felt like it never reached his lungs despite the continued rise and fall of his chest. Fuck. What would he do now? Fuck. The sound of footsteps crossed the room and Mordecai couldn't make himself look up to see who it was until a hand touched his shoulder.

“Come on,” Roland said, more kindly than Mordecai would have given him credit for. “Let's get you patched up.”

His hands were bleeding, Mordecai realized as Roland pulled him to his feet and put Mordecai's arm over his shoulders. He must have cut them open on one of the bottles. Maybe more than one. Maybe something else entirely. He hadn't exactly been paying attention to what he was doing, he'd just needed some way to get all the feelings out of him before they broke him. Or at least that was what he'd been trying to do. He was pretty sure they'd broken him anyway.

Dr. Zed was unusually quiet as he picked shards of glass out of Mordecai's hands, then bandaged them up. Well, it's not as if the reason for his injuries could be any mystery. Everyone with an ECHO was just told that the love of Mordecai's life was murdered. He needed to get out of Sanctuary before people tried to do something like ask how he was feeling or share their own stories of loss. He clearly wasn't about to shake Roland, but he didn't want anyone else around him right now.

They got back to Roland's apartment without anyone bothering them, which was a relief. It was a nice place, probably, but Mordecai couldn't really bring himself to care about anything. Roland pointed him toward the couch, gave him a few blankets, and left him alone. As it turned out, that just meant Mordecai laid there staring at the wall until he somehow fell asleep. Or at least he assumed he did, because one minute it was pitch black in the room, and the next there was light filling it. Pandora's sunrises weren't sudden enough to account for that.

He sat up and dragged a hand down his face. Now what? He couldn't stay here on Roland's couch forever, but the extent of his plans for the future had been to drink until he and Brick could die together. That clearly wasn't going to happen now. So what was? He tried thinking about it for a minute and came up with nothing so he gave up and just went back to staring at the wall. He could hear Roland moving around eventually but didn't bother looking to see what he was doing. It didn't matter. Nothing really did.

Mordecai stayed in Roland's apartment for what he thought must have been weeks before getting up and walking out. Roland eventually had to go back to running Sanctuary and that meant nobody was around to stop him. He went back to his and Brick's old place and pointedly ignored everything but their weapons safe. He took his favorite rifle and pistol, hesitated, then took Brick's shotgun as well. The other man had rarely used it, typically preferring to punch the living hell out of every enemy that came his way, but it was pretty much the only thing Mordecai had left of him.

The swoop of wings and click of claws against metal told him that Bloodwing had found him and was sitting on the windowsill. He watched the safe lock itself back up and turned to face the raptor, who was clearly displeased with being left alone for so long. Mordecai sighed and crossed the room, holding his arm up for the bird to step up on.

“Perdóname,” he murmured, scratching Bloodwing's neck. The raptor nipped sharply at his finger, then settled down with a grumble and fluffed his feathers. It was the first time he'd been bitten since Bloodwing was a baby, but Mordecai wasn't about to yell at him for it. He'd messed up, badly, and he was lucky that Bloodwing hadn't taken off by this point. “Solo tu y yo. ¿Bueno?”

Bloodwing screeched excitedly in reply and reached out to nibble gently at one of Mordecai's dreads. That got a ghost of a smile for a moment before Mordecai turned to look at the room he was in. He had so many good memories here, but they were all with Brick, and he couldn't stay here without the other man. It was time for him to go. Where, exactly, he had no idea, but he'd come to Pandora with nothing but his rifle and his bird, and he didn't entirely mind the idea of striking out on his own with just that again. Hell, under different circumstances, he'd probably be pretty happy right about now.

As it was, he didn't look at anyone as he went to the nearest Fast Travel station. He didn't particularly care where they went and chose a place at random. There were bounty boards all over Pandora. He'd be able to survive easily. He'd have to stay on the move, though, or no doubt Roland would try to bring him back to Sanctuary every chance he could get. Or maybe not. He didn't think he could count on anything any more. Everything he'd ever leaned on had been taken away from him and it was probably best for everyone if he went back to being a loner.

Which was how he spent the next five months traveling across Pandora, never staying more than a night in one place, and steadily drinking more and more. He was still a crack shot when he was drunk, at least. Otherwise he'd never be able to keep himself and Bloodwing fed. And in tonight's town of... wherever the hell they were, taking a job had gotten him paid with free room and board at the local hotel. It looked a little shady, like everywhere else on Pandora, but that wasn't nearly enough to make him pass on the offer. And all he'd had to do was clear out some rakk nests. Easy.

He'd brought back a few rakk heads to prove he'd done what he was hired for and went to take a shower to get all the blood off of him. It was the first hot water he'd felt in a while and he took his time, long enough that Bloodwing started making fussy noises from his perch in the hallway. _Needy asshole,_ Mordecai thought, though there was no malice to it. He and the raptor shared a bond that meant he could never resent anything Bloodwing needed. Besides, he'd been clean a good ten minutes ago.

The bar attached to the hotel ended up being crowded, and Mordecai wrinkled his nose in distaste. It was too loud for him and he didn't want to be pestered for details of his hunt. Bloodwing snapped at a few people from his shoulder and ensured he had a clear path to the bar, where the bartender quickly agreed to give him half a dozen bottles instead of pouring shots for him like everyone else. He didn't bother with any thanks, just put down some money and went back to his room.

He'd finished four of them when there was a knock on the door. Really? Now? He had a good buzz going! And he was relaxed, too, just wearing an old tank top and sweatpants as he laid on the couch, Bloodwing occasionally nibbling on one of his dreads when he turned his head to look at the television in the corner. Maybe he would get lucky and whoever it was would just go away on their own. Instead the knocking returned, louder this time, and then a third round of banging that made the whole door shake.

“¡Está bien, maldición!” he yelled at the door, groaned, and got up to see who it was. This better not be a job. He was gonna shoot somebody in the face if this was a job. He yanked the door open and glared at –

“Dios mío,” Mordecai said, grief welling thick and heavy in his chest. He took a step back from the doorway, his hands shaking, the booze threatening to come back up. “Not you. Anyone but you.”

Brick's face fell and Mordecai loathed how his first instinct was to try to comfort a ghost. Hell, he was never any good at that with regular people, the alive ones he could actually try to fix things with. But he'd had enough substance-induced hallucinations to know that this had to be another. Brick was dead, and fuck his mind for reminding him of that when he'd been having a good night. His grief had only barely started to go away, giving him room to breathe between bouts of pain so intense it left him helpless. He hadn't thought it would rampage back through him like this.

“Please,” Mordecai whispered. A part of him was acutely aware that he'd only said the word twice since coming to Pandora, and that last time, he'd been begging Roland to tell him Brick was alive. “Please don't.”

“I thought you'd want to know,” Brick said, sounding helpless, his hands twisting together awkwardly.

Mordecai stepped back, shaking his head. His vision blurred with tears and he had to fight to keep from sobbing aloud. Damn his impeccable memory. Damn his loss. Damn whatever else had brought this vision to his door, because he didn't want it, he didn't want to be reminded of everything that had been taken away from him. Why couldn't this be like the hallucinations of his father, cursing and throwing things, or of his mother, quietly sobbing like she always had after her husband hit her? Why did this one have to be so _Brick_ , so considerate and awkward and perfect?

“Just _fuck off,_ ” he snarled, surprising even himself with the venom in his tone, and stalked away from the door. It was only one room, technically. But there was a wall half hiding the place where the bed had been set, and it was the only place he could hide from his hallucination. Assuming it didn't follow him. He pressed his back to the wall and slid down it to sit on the floor, unable to stand any longer. Or keep from crying, evidently, because he was dimly aware that his face was wet.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and sniffed, hating the feeling that crying always brought with it. Like he was a kid again, listening to his parents fight and yell, like he couldn't do anything to stop what was happening to him. He couldn't hear anything from the other room, so maybe he'd gotten lucky in terms of his unwanted vision. He'd have to go back out and shut the door eventually, though. Someone would try to steal all his shit if he didn't, and apart from that, he knew he'd never sleep when someone could just wander inside.

A hand touched his shoulder and Mordecai panicked, drawing his sword and making a blind slash as he scrambled to his feet. Why hadn't he heard anyone walking inside? Why the hell hadn't Bloodwing warned him? What did they want? They caught his sword arm easily and Mordecai spat out a curse, his angry gaze flying to his attacker's face.

Brick? Mordecai faltered, confused, and Brick easily removed the sword from his hand. He tossed it behind him, somewhere it landed with a clatter, and Mordecai spared a moment to be deeply annoyed by the mistreatment of his weapon. Then the confusion came back in full force, and all he could do was stare at the man, his mind reeling. This couldn't be happening. Brick was dead, and the things Mordecai saw when he got too drunk were never tangible. They looked real, sure, but he'd tried throwing things at them, even shooting them, without result.

“What's happening?” he whispered.

“Te amo,” Brick said softly. He slowly let go of Mordecai's wrist, but the sniper barely noticed.

That was the only Spanish that Brick had ever learned. Or so he claimed, but Mordecai was pretty sure the man had learned much more, and had just decided not to mention it. Either way... It was something private between them, a quiet few words of affection and assurance, and Mordecai knew that this couldn't be some kind of trick. Not from his mind or anyone else's.

“What about the Hyperion story?”

“There was a guard the same size as me. I killed him, took his uniform, and set off a grenade to mess up his face. I didn't think it would fool them, just give me time to get away. Then I heard the story a few days later.”

Mordecai nodded, chewing on his lower lip as he thought it over. Okay. That made sense. Okay. But why had it taken Brick so long to – of course. He'd dropped his ECHO when he'd seen the headline, wrecked it, and hadn't given anyone the information for his new one. He'd wanted to disappear and that meant cutting ties with Sanctuary. And of course the Crimson Raiders weren't going to make Brick a target by broadcasting that he'd survived. Someday, maybe, when they were stronger. But not when Hyperion could wipe them out and take Brick back. He just had no idea how Brick had found him here, but that didn't matter, not right now.

“Mordecai?” Brick asked hesitantly.

Shit, he must have been lost in thought for a while.

“Are you o-”

His words were cut off by Mordecai pressing his lips to Brick's, kissing him deeply as he stretched up to wrap his arms around Brick's neck. Talking. There was too much talking. Right now all Mordecai wanted was to make out with Brick for as long as he could and ignore the rest of the world. And judging by how one of Brick's hands moved to his hip, and the other slid up under the back of his shirt, they were both on board with that plan.

Good. Mordecai had missed him for far too long. Brick... though he wasn't sure if he could ever say as much out loud, Brick was it for him. Mordecai would never be able to love anyone else like this. Would never be able to _be_ loved, for that matter. Not unless it was from the man standing in front of him.

“Te amo,” he whispered against Brick's lips, and the smile he got in return was blinding.

Mordecai had fallen into this whole thing by accident, the first time. When they were fumbling with each others' belts in the back of a technical, trying to keep quiet so they wouldn't be heard by the other two Vault Hunters sitting at a nearby campfire, exploring each other by touch because they couldn't see well under a waning crescent moon, only looking for a quick release and nothing else.

This time he jumped.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two thousand words of nothing but fluff. Enjoy.

Mordecai woke up to warmth for the first time in months.

There was a hot, solid form behind him and a weight on his ribs that he knew was Brick's arm across him. Holding him close, where he belonged. Mordecai didn't even open his eyes, sliding his hand up to rest on Brick's forearm, his thumb rubbing across one of the scars there. He'd been there when Brick got it. An alpha skag had come out of nowhere after they thought they'd cleared out a den and Brick had barely been able to get his arm up in time to keep it from biting him in the face. It had bled like crazy but Brick hadn't complained.

He rarely did. Mordecai wondered, sometimes, how Brick handled his negative emotions. He had to have them, right? But no matter what the world threw at him, Brick kept meeting it with a smile and boundless optimism. It made them almost complete opposites. Mordecai dreaded how the world would next fuck him over. Brick could barely wait to see how each day was better than the last.

And somehow they were still together. That was something that Mordecai valued over all the loot on Pandora. He didn't say it enough, though. There were a lot of things he hadn't said that he should have, a lot of things he'd said that he wished he could take back. But somehow Brick seemed to understand it all. Like he knew everything that went on in Mordecai's head, why he lashed out at the people he least wanted to hurt, how his thoughts tangled around themselves, even when Mordecai himself had no idea how to explain it all.

No wonder he loved Brick.

There was a shift behind him and a knee nudged the back of his calf. Mordecai smiled and opened his eyes. He was facing away from Brick, with the other man wrapped around him from behind, so there wasn't much of a view. But he felt safe. And that was more than he could say about the months that had seen them apart. He'd been lonely before but he'd had no idea just how bad it could get. Now everything felt... almost normal. He'd never wholly forget that awful loneliness that had consumed him, but Brick's return had erased all the grief and left only vague memories.

Brick pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his shoulder and Mordecai squirmed around until they were facing each other. Not for the first time, he wondered how Brick was so tall. He'd never considered himself short, but even now with his face level with Brick's collarbone, he had to stretch his toes to touch Brick's feet. Mordecai wasn't used to being the short one, especially not in a relationship. At first he'd hated it. Now his feelings were... admittedly still mixed, but he'd grown to like it more and more. Guys who looked like Brick tended to be assholes but Mordecai couldn't remember the last time the other man had acted with malicious intent. Except when someone shot him first. And in that case, to use the professional term, those bitches were fair game.

“G'mornin', mi vida,” Mordecai mumbled. He shuffled up a little until he could kiss Brick's chin, then settled down with his face in the crook of Brick's neck, listening to his heartbeat. It had always been reassuring.

“Morning, Mordy.” Brick pressed a kiss to the top of his head. One big hand came up to push Mordecai's dreads out of his face, the backs of Brick's fingers trailing across his cheek and down his shoulder and arm until his hand came to rest on Mordecai's ribs.

“Y'know, it got really cold without you here.” It wasn't the most sensible or the most pressing thing that Mordecai could have said, but he was still waking up, and it was the first thing that came to mind. And it was the closest he wanted to come to saying how much he'd missed Brick, in a perfect, still morning like this one.

Besides, Brick knew that Pandora sucked. Hot enough during the day to leave Mordecai all but gasping for breath under his mask, cold enough at night that he'd woken up shivering more than once when he was alone, even inside a house. Brick, meanwhile, ran like a furnace – which meant that Mordecai was constantly shoving him off when the sun was out because he was already overheated. But when the temperatures started to drop, he generally wasn't far from Brick's side, an abrupt switch that had left Brick baffled at first. It had actually made Mordecai feel bad, when the other man had hesitantly brought it up, asking if he'd done something to make Mordecai angry at him. Brick was an affectionate person by nature and it wasn't like he could help his body temperature. But he'd said he didn't mind, once Mordecai explained it to him.

_It ain't that I don't love ya, Brick, or I'm ashamed of ya or anything like that. You're just too damn hot to be hugging me when it's a thousand-ass degrees out._

That had gotten a rolling-thunder laugh, and Brick picking him up in a hug that had immediately had Mordecai squawking in protest. Even though he'd acted all kinds of disgruntled at the time, looking back on it always brought a smile to his face. Brick was so open and happy and somehow it made Mordecai feel better himself. At times he thought just being around the other man could make him happy. Like now, when Brick's chuckle rumbled through both their chests, bringing a soft smile to Mordecai's face as he tilted his head back to see his lover's smile.

“Is that why you were always such a cuddler at night?” Brick asked.

“I wasn't a cuddler!”

“Really? 'Cause you're cuddlin' me right now.”

A sullen pause, and then, “I ain't _cuddlin'_. I'm just sticking close for warmth.”

Even though Brick's laughter was at his expense, Mordecai couldn't help but be enamored. He nipped at the side of Brick's jaw in half-assed retaliation before settling back down. There were faint noises drifting in from the street, but their room was quiet and warm enough that he seriously considered just going back to sleep. Until his pillow started moving, anyway. He made a discontented sound under his breath and opened one eye in time to watch Brick swear softly and kick his clothes out of the way from where they'd been left on the floor.

“'Ey, where you going?” he asked, folding his arms under his chin.

“I gotta pee.”

“You comin' back to bed?”

“No, Mordy, I'm gonna run out naked into the street.”

“Damn. Never took you for an exhibitionist.”

“What?”

“Someone who gets off on strangers seein' their junk.”

“I'm not a _perv_ ,” Brick protested, his words almost lost under barks of laughter from Mordecai. He shook his head and ignored it. At least until he turned around and saw Mordecai propped up on one elbow, a confident smirk sprawled across his face, dreads spilling over one shoulder, the sheets pooling around his waist. The soft morning light coming in through the window gilded his profile and upper body, and Brick couldn't help but think he looked like an angel.

“Brick, you keep lookin' at me like that, I'm gonna start blushin' or something.”

“'Or something' sounds good,” Brick suggested. He crawled into bed, Mordecai shifting to lay back against the pillows and pull Brick toward him. He put his arms on either side of Mordecai's head, bending down to kiss him as one of Mordecai's hands slipped into the dip of his spine and the other curled around the back of his neck. “Tell me more about that.”

“You want me to tell you about it here or out in the street?”

Brick huffed against the side of Mordecai's face and shifted his weight to tug gently at the sniper's beard. Mordecai chuckled, placing a quick, sloppy kiss to his cheek. His teeth scraped across Brick's jaw, the corner of his mouth turning up in a wicked smirk at the noise that elicited, until Brick started sucking a hickey into his neck and Mordecai's head fell back as he let out a moan. Warm breaths panted across each others' throats and faces as their make-out session grew increasingly heated.

Mordecai paused, his face tucked against Brick's neck, his heart pounding as he panted for breath. He almost felt like he was panicking, except the anxiety that should have been squeezing his chest was nowhere to be found. Instead there was a soft, warm feeling that spread through every part of him. An overwhelming certainty that this was the right thing to do.

“Mordy, honey, you all right?” A massive hand moved up and down his side. The soothing rhythm and even pressure helped Mordecai take a second to catch his breath.

Mordecai pushed gently at Brick's chest. It wasn't enough force to move anyone, much less someone as big as the giant in bed with him, but Brick moved back in an instant. He shifted his weight so he was sitting at Mordecai's side, his thigh pressed against Mordecai's hip. Despite the concerned look on Brick's face, the sniper couldn't help a fond grin. His hand cupped Brick's jaw, smile spreading when Brick instinctively leaned into his touch. Not many people liked him, much less sought out his touch.

“Cásate conmigo,” he whispered.

That just got a confused sound from Brick, his head tilting to the side like a puppy, and Mordecai laughed as joy flooded through him. Yeah. This was the man he'd chosen to love. And he was perfect.

“I was thinkin' about stuff I shoulda said to you,” Mordecai explained. “When I thought you were gone, and I was gonna be stuck livin' with a lot of regrets and words I shouldn't've kept to myself. And there was one thing I kept wishing I'd said.” He took one of Brick's hands in both of his and softly kissed each knuckle in turn, from thumb to pinky. His gaze moved up to Brick's face, lips moving against the back of Brick's hand as he repeated in English, “Marry me.”

Brick leaned in to kiss him, hard, his other hand anchoring itself in Mordecai's hair as Mordecai automatically tilted his chin up into the kiss. For a second he forgot about everything else, kissing Brick back as he shifted his weight forward so he was straddling Brick's lap. His hands wandered across Brick's body, nails abruptly digging into skin as Brick nipped at Mordecai's ear.

“That's a 'yes', right?” Mordecai mumbled into Brick's mouth.

“Of course.” Brick kissed Mordecai's lips, his nose, his cheek, his jaw, each touch separated by a reverent, “Of course, of course, of course, of course.”

“Te amo.”

“Te amo más.”

“You wouldn't be sayin' that if you had any idea how much I love you right now.”

“Aw. Just right now?”

Mordecai laughed, pressing his forehead to Brick's. “Forever. I love you forever, more than you can ever imagine.”

“I think I got _some_ idea.” Brick laughed, loud and booming. The sound was too much in such a small room but Mordecai couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed. Especially when Brick continued. “The whole time I was looking for you, I was thinking that if I found you, I was gonna find a way to convince you I wasn't ever gonna leave you again. Knew just what I wanted to do, but I couldn't find a place to buy a nice ring. Didn't know your ring size either.”

“You romantic! You're gonna make me feel bad for not getting you anything nice.”

“Wait, do you know my ring size?”

“I mean, no... Probably would have gotten you something more 'you' anyway. Like custom brass knuckles or a shotgun or something.”

“That'd be awesome,” Brick said enthusiastically. “And don't worry about any of that, Mordy. This is perfect just the way it is. I love you and you're all I need.”

“Shit,” Mordecai said, his face a furious red. “I told you that you were gonna make me blush.”

Brick laughed quietly and kissed Mordecai's forehead, murmuring quiet words of affection. And for the first time, Mordecai found himself looking forward to the future.


End file.
